


Under The Snake's Eyes

by Bells_Hunt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Hogwarts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bells_Hunt/pseuds/Bells_Hunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a detention and Draco is not about to miss or change his night practices on the grand piano room because of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Snake's Eyes

 

 

Harry smiled as he approached the dungeons. The rich sound of the grand piano escaped from under the heavy wooden door and floated through the rock cold corridor to him. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds while he walked, enjoying the sensation. His fingers were tingling. He had actually been craving for those days in the week now. The only thing that stood in the way was the fact that this was his penultimate week. The evenings listening to that rich sound would soon be over.

The amount of time he spent planning how to break enough rules that he wasn’t expelled or sent to something worse but enough to get his duty extended was a bit terrifying. He had no idea why his brain was already making plans as he walked, thinking about stopping by Snape’s classroom, entering his office, defying him. It was stupid. But even more stupid was the  _reason_ he wanted to do that for. Determined he obliged himself to move on, but he didn’t have enough self control to keep his feet from hurrying as soon as the new objective was settled, the pace quickening towards the font of the sound, yearning for something Harry himself couldn’t explain.

At first he didn’t even notice.

The first time Ron asked him why in bloody hell was he going to detention with a smile he got caught off guard. He didn’t have an answer for that. Instead he just chided at his friend and said he wasn’t smiling before hurrying away. Denial could be very efficient. At least for some time. The thing was that after that day, he couldn’t help but ask himself the same question twice a week. Why the hell was he going to detention with a smile? Even if he controlled it and cracked it at all costs he could still feel it in his finger tips, like now as they tingled.

If someone had asked him about three weeks ago what did he think of the boy that was playing that intricate sound, he’d have no hesitations in telling exactly how despising he was, from his stupid carefully scrambled hair to his mocking smirky voice, till his annoying silver gaze and everything single trait about him. He was a gob shite and honestly in a bad day, Harry could even get to the point of saying he’d rather have a meeting with Voldemort than with that ferret.

So how was it that now as he pushed the heavy door open, he had to keep his lips very tight so they wouldn’t smile?

The slim frame didn’t move as he entered the room. As always, Draco had his back to him and his fingers didn’t even stutter on the keys as he continued to play to grand black elegant piano. Harry knew he wouldn’t stop no matter how much noise he did, but still for some reason he tried to keep as still as possible. It seemed to him that nothing should startle that song. 

He walked in and passed right to his spot. His stool was yet there, so he sat and picked up his work from where he’d left. His job was to clean old musical instruments. Some were very hard to clean. Some would try to bite him while he cleaned. Some would try to tangle around his wrist and most of them he had no idea how were played. And of course, no magic for cleaning was allowed.

Despite that, Harry didn’t mind the work for once. He was used to cleaning since the Dursley and Draco’s song had so many tones to it. It was sad and filled with tunes and lifts and come backs. It made his mind wonder to so many places he had never seen before but that felt familiar and touched him in some way he couldn’t begin to explain.

He cleaned for almost twenty minutes in silence before he raised his head. As expected, he met silver eyes with his own. Draco quirked his eyebrow at him and Harry mirrored his gesture with a light smirk on his lips. 

"It’s from a wizard from a family too pure for you to know, Potter. It’s classic magic culture." he said as he continued to play. Harry smiled as he watched him before getting back to cleaning.

"Sounds nice and nothing tried to bite my finger off yet so I take that as good sign."

"After next week I’ll be doing an intensive study of his work, maybe you’ll learn something."

"I won’t be here after next week."

The white long fingers hesitated for the first time, just a second, but Harry’s ears were trained enough by now to recognize it.

"Oh."

Harry pressed his lips. Darn it. Oh fuck it. He got up and walked towards the blonde, sitting down by his side on the music stool. He didn’t have a reason or a point to what he was doing. But then again, he was a Gryffindor. He was allowed to impulsiveness. Follow his instincts instead of just his brain. The blonde glared at him.

"What are you doing Potter?"

Harry smirked.

"Well… Since I won’t be here. Why don’t you show me some of it now? I’d like to learn how to play that introduction. It’s quite rich." 

Draco looked at him like he wanted to see through his skull to read him inside out. Harry kept his gaze firm. He felt like this was some kind of breaking point. 

"And since when do you play…?"

"I don’t" he admitted with a shrug "But aren’t you so great? You should be able to teach me."

"If you play like a retarded you won’t open that mouth for the rest of the night, got it?"

Harry grinned.

"Deal, Malfoy."

Draco sighed and surprising Harry whilst making him blush profusely, passed and arm around him and placed his both hands over the brunette’s. When he spoke, Harry could feel his cold breath right on his ear globe and his skin bristled. 

"Pay attention then."

The next half an hour was torturing. Draco kept dictating instructions in his sultry voice and Harry found out that he could barely breath. Fuck. He had been the lion chasing the prey but he suddenly found himself as a cub under the snake’s eyes and charm. His fingers moved with the gentle but firm guide and pressure of Draco’s long ones and he fought hard to copy and register the moves of those fingers that made his look like he had no coordination at all. Draco’s lips were getting closer and closer to his ear and his body as well slid closer to the brunette’s in the stool.

Harry closed his eyes before he realized it and suddenly the hands had left his own and placed themselves on each side of his waist. He pulled in the air but his fingers were still playing. Not as purely as Draco had but he still managed to produce a good enough sound. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore, they just moved on their own and he turned his head to the side. His nose almost tumbled on Draco’s elegant one when he did so. That’s how close they were. 

Harry wondered if Draco could hear his breath and pulse and flushed at the bet that he probably could and very well.

"Guess you’re not so bad after all. Still sounds like a cat being disemboweled though." 

Harry was too busy staring at those magnetic eyes from so close to bother with the words. But he answered automatically.

"At least I don’t look like one."

Draco smirked because Harry’s voice sounded shaken and weak. The sound had stopped but neither of them cared. The blonde brought his hands up to Potter’s face and slipped his glasses off.

"You’d look like one and not worse if you considered putting this hideous glasses on the trash where they belong." 

Harry was panting now. He had no idea what to say, his brain was a knot. Draco looked… Dangerous. His heart was racing. He had never feared the blonde before. And then it was over.

With the sounds of steps outside, his glasses were pushed harshly back on his face and he stirred back into reality. 

"Get back to cleaning."

Draco said sharply between his teeth. Harry was so taken back that he did just what the other ordered. Just as he picked up the next instrument in line, Snape opened the door with a sudden bump.

After his inspection - where he got a lot of the instruments Harry had already cleaned and with a wave of the wand made them get back to the line of the ones that still needed to be cleaned, qualifying Harry’s cleaning with a lot of unsatisfying elaborate adjectives - he said good night to Draco but Harry could see the question in his black eyes.

The same question Harry had on his own when he raised his gaze to the blonde’s after Snape had left, but Draco wasn’t looking back at him this time. He just kept on playing and in silence.

Harry felt a little frustrated.

He had made sure to insult Snape lightly but still provokingly enough that the teacher congratulated him with a monotonous tone to the fact he had just earned himself another two weeks of work. When he said it, Harry made his best to keep his poker face although it felt like a victory. Now he felt like he’d done something stupid. He didn’t know what had gotten into Malfoy some minutes ago but it seemed like it had passed.

By the end of he night, however, when he was leaving, he stopped as he heard his name said in so many insulting tones only one person could have said it. When he turned around, he almost gasped. Draco was right in front of him. Freaking ghost.

He made him walk backwards till he had rested against the solid door and then the blonde was leaning over him. Malfoy leaned in till heir noses were touching and Harry’s green eyes widened. 

"You should really consider about the glasses… And you know one thing.." Draco’s lips slipped so close to his neck that Harry shook head to toe. He wanted to grab Draco’s head and just press his mouth against his feverish skin, end the damn teasing.

Fuck.

What the hell was wrong with him?

"… At least you don’t smell like a disemboweled cat." 

Harry’s eyes fluttered close and then Draco was gone. He passed him with a “See you next week, Potter.” and knocked the door close as he left. The brunette realized he had stopped breathing. His knees got weak and he breathed in roughly. His throat was dry. After a couple of minutes to get a grip of himself, he bit his lower lip and glanced at the empty now closed piano.

"See you…" 

He muttered, before following suit to get back to Gryffindor’s tower.

He had no idea what to call what was going on between him and Malfoy. He just knew he liked it. He just knew he had to come back and find out.

 

 


End file.
